Friday, March 5, 2010

So my dear friend Meaghan continues to post about her domestic adventures and IM me about such as well. I shouldn't say I'm surprised. The girl has the most organized underwear drawer I've ever seen in my life our first year in college. (Mine meanwhile was socks and underwear shoved into a drawer that was lucky if it was closed most of the time.

But I can't help but laugh at our conversations via gtalk (example made up convo):

Meag: I just vacuumed the entire house, did laundry and made a healthy dinner.kT: um. champ made dinner and you just reminded me i have a load of laundry in the dryer that's been there for two days. brb while i get that.

It just amuses me how not cut out for domesticity I am. Not that I can't cook. When I do bother, it's good. I make homemade pasta primavera, and spaghetti sauce from scratch. Still most of our meals are on the couch, me on the computer, chris watching tv.

Our place? It's cleaned on occasions, when expecting visitors and the like. Mostly it's an ordered sense of chaos. Although when the laundry has been done and put away (which is not always happening) our bedroom is rather clean.

Perfect example though? Our kitchen table has the desk chair from the guest room pulled up to it and is cover in in work projects that I've been doing for scrapbooking. To tell you that I might clean it up this weekend? That's a total stretch. Maybe. If I spend most of Saturday organizing everything else so I have somewhere to put it.

Which starts with getting the folding table that's been chilling int he back of my car out out of my car.

Meag's is worried about having kids and not being able to do huge cook offs on sundays to be ready for the week? I'm worried about losing them. I think that's just a sure sign that either a) i'm not cut out for it or b) I am about as far from ready as one can get.